


Invisible Line, The

by scullyseviltwin



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-03
Updated: 2004-09-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 22:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullyseviltwin/pseuds/scullyseviltwin
Summary: One thing that everyone is sure of is that in all things there exists an unseen line.





	Invisible Line, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Invisible Line**

**by: ScullyAsTrinity**

**Character(s):** Josh, Donna  
**Pairing(s):** Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Angst, Romance  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Summary:** One thing that everyone is sure of is that in all things there exists an unseen line. 

There are certain things that you're sure of. You're certainly sure that the sky is blue (when it's not raining). You're positive that the grass is green (unless it's on *this* side of the fence.) One thing that everyone is sure of is that in all things there exists an unseen line. 

It's there, in the air before you. Imprinted on your mind. Constantly nagging your brain. That tiny voice in your head tells you not to step over it or bad things will happen. Very bad things that can lead to more catastrophic and embarrassing things. 

Then, the other half of your mind, the side that likes to take risks, begins to wonder what it would be like if you just picked up your eraser and did away with all traces of the invisible lead. Wonders what it would be like to stand on the other side of the damned fence under a gray and angry sky and take a chance. 

Perhaps the chance would lead to bluer skies again, bluer skies with a chance of rain that would keep the grass looking green and quenched. 

I can see-no- I can feel the line, it's there, wholly there just lingering, taunting me. It ruffles my hair when my back is turned and forces me to get a severe case of goosebumps when she comes within two feet of me. This line, that I cannot see but only feel, is with me every hour of every minute of every day. It challenges me to call when I'm thinking of her at three in the morning. It stills my hand, makes it linger on the small of her back longer than it should. 

Right now, right this second, I'm teetering on the edge of it, it's invisible stark whiteness nearly touching the toe of my shoes. I force one foot casually over the edge and a part of the fear inside of me abates. I allow my hand this time, to come up and just brush her hair off of her shoulder as we speak. 

Noticing, like I knew she would, her eyes squint up a bit, attempting to decipher my actions, but her emotions betray her and she smiles, continuing to try and convince me of her point with her rambling diatribe. 

It's true, I am a very visible political player and as such I must tread very lightly when it comes to my assistant. So, when my hand lingers on her shoulder, warning lights signal at the sides of my eyes that I am indeed to close. 

Very discreetly, I drop my hand to my side and continue to listen. 

I'm not fickle enough to believe that she's want something half-assed with me. She wouldn't sneak around, hide behind closed doors. She wouldn't lie just to be with me. 

I'd lie to be with her. I'd hide it all if it meant that I could know what the other side of the white felt like. If, when I stepped over, I'd be electrocuted by all of the energy that it has held back. It'd be worth it just to taste her skin and finally quell that question that haunts my mind. 

Would it taste as dangerous, as rancid and sweet as Amy's? Would it taste like Mandy's? Bitter and smoky, making me want to stop and vomit, but push on? 

But no, Donna has her own taste. Something sweet and subtle but overwhelming in its innocence. Donna would taste... Donna would taste. 

Now, she peers into my eyes, waits for me to answer her inquiries. I can't really, for the last few moments I haven't been listening and she knows it. 

"You haven't heard a word I said, have you?" Her face falls, and she tilts her head, her hair falling back into her eyes. I can't help it, I have to put it back in its place. 

"I lost you after marriage incentives to tell you the truth." My hands fall away, but one foot stay on the other side of the line, making me feel almost giddy, as if I anticipate something. "But, alas, I'm off to the Hill, to make the world a better place." The haughtiness falls into my shoulders easily, and I place a palm on the cubicle divider, leaning against it. 

"But!" She tosses the file that she was holding on her desk, and crosses her arms waiting for what's next. 

"Be at your desk tonight when I get back. There's somethin' we gotta do." I say, and spin on my heel, walk back into my office, leaving her to pretend like she's *not* pondering what I've got up my sleeve. 

Screw erasing the line, I think a nice blast from a fireman's hose will do just fine this evening.


End file.
